Modern No-Magic AU Drarry

Chapter One

When two men say that they knew your parents and want to save you from your abusive household that you've been miserable in your whole life, you'd leap at the chance, too. But because of the issues with the stupid law and stuff like that, I've had to float in between my aunt and uncle's house (the only people biologically related to my parents still alive) and these two amazing people (my Godfather being one of them) who I call my uncles anyway. They're in all the photos with my parents, and even with photos of me as a baby (they showed me all these pictures, by the way. Thanks to my aunt and uncle, I had never seen any pictures of me or my parents at all). But now that I just graduated high school, I'm eighteen and legally an adult, I can finally make my own decisions and move in with the two men I met when I was in my third year of school. 

School was my only escape. It was way more dangerous than it needed to be, but with my two best friends by my side, I was in the best place I could be. They kept me out of trouble whilst simultaneously pushing us to the next sinkhole. We probably have a record number of detentions, and I wear it like a badge. But those two and I have been inseparable since our very first year of our schooling together, back when we were eleven years old. Fast forward seven years, and we're still close as ever.

"Bloody hell, is Harry monologuing in the back again?" a loud voice interrupted.

"I don't know, it's your shift not mine so he's your responsibility now. Try to keep it down, please? I'm trying to study."

"But there are meant to be three people every shift!"

"Congratulations, Ronald, you've read the job requirement. I wasn't rostered on and I don't know who was, so I don't know what you want me to say."

Retying his apron, Harry walked into the service area where a tall, gangly boy with red hair stood, crossing his arms.

"About time."

"What?" Harry asked, looking from him to the girl seated on one of the tables who sighs and tugs her scarf closer around her, bending her head down closer to her textbook.

"Ron is struggling to wipe the counters all by himself without you attached to the other side of his umbilical cord." She rolled her eyes and sniffed.

Tilting his head slightly, Harry surveyed her. "Are you sick, Hermione?"

"Explains why she's crabby as all hell," Ron muttered.

"Yes, I'm sick, Harry, and I've got my test tomorrow and my headache is killing me and if my nose drips one more time I am going to scream!" Hermione scratched her head, only making her frizzy brown hair stand up even more. She was wearing the cafe uniform underneath her big jumper, her shift in two hours. She had turned up early knowing that the bus ride from her house to the cafe took an hour at the most and so if she left three hours early she'd be able to get at least two hours of study in before her shift began.

"Alright then," Harry grimaced. "Well, uh. Good luck?"

"I don't need luck," Hermione sniffed loudly again and rubbed her nose before flattening out the pages. "I just need to focus hard and study smart."

Bunching his sleeves around his elbows, Harry tried not to laugh. "Well you're going to ace it anyway. You always do."

"Don't jinx it!" Hermione practically screeched. Her cold was definitely getting to her.

"Just relax, 'Mione, you'll do fine," Ron assured her, turning around to rinse a Chux cloth out in the sink.

Harry watched from the corner of his eye as Hermione nodded at Ron's words, taking a deep breath and then expelling it, not looking away from the back of Ron's head. Harry wasn't entirely sure but he thought he saw Hermione's dark cheeks turn a rosier shade, though it was probably nothing.

The door to the cafe opened, a warm tinkling sound against the bitter, cold wind that crept in and made the hair on Harry's arms stand up.

"Where the hell have you been?" Ron demanded, crossing his arms as he turned around to death stare the figure rushing into the room.

"I am aware that I am late, Weasley," the pale boy said quickly, eyebrows furrowed.

"You do realise it's a nine o'clock start, right?" Ron continued, not relaxing his gaze. "That's NINE A.M, Malfoy. Do you need to borrow a watch, mate?"

"I don't need to borrow anything from you," Draco scowled at the red-head, marching towards the door to get into the serving area and back room and pushing against it at the same time as he roughly twisted the knob. Caught in momentum, when the door didn't open Draco ran into it with a thump.

Hermione hid behind her hand as she laughed and Ron openly snorted. Harry couldn't help but snigger at the frustration on Malfoy's face, the pink spreading from his pale cheeks to the tips of his ears. The laughter only increased as the embarrassed boy swore under his breath.

"Blasted door, it never bloody works." Closing his eyes, Draco clenched his fists. "Can someone open the door from the inside?" he said as if it caused him physical pain.

"Sorry, what was that, Malfoy?" Harry said innocently, Ron chuckling at his shoulder. "Do you need our help?"

"Shut up," Draco snapped, and all giggling ceased. "Open the damn door."

The trio silently traded glances before Harry sighed and made his way to the door. "It gets jammed easily," he muttered, shaking the round doorknob a little.

"I can see that," came Draco's harsh voice from the other side of the door. "I thought it was fixed ages ago. Apparently you can't even do that right."

"Does he know he works here too?" Ron wondered aloud, to which Hermione responded, "I think he'd rather actually get some dirt under his fingernails than say 'we' and group himself together with us."

"I think you're right, mate."

With a final rough push of the door, Harry dislodged it and held it open. "Fixed."

Draco looked at him for perhaps a second too long before roughly pushing past Harry, spitting a name at him under his breath.

Gritting his teeth, Harry closed the door with a bang. 

"Customer," Ron announced from the serving area, and everyone quickly got back into the flow of work (Hermione into her study).